


Just Like You

by heartsdesire456



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Happy Ending, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of PTSD, Past Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’m Wolf Blitzer, and there’s some shocking Breaking news this hour.” Steve paled some and stopped mid-curl when his own face popped up on the screen. He didn’t know what was about to be said, but he knew it couldn’t be good. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>And it wasn’t.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Wolf Blitzer’s voice was what Steve’s hearing narrowed to as the headline popped up and he spoke. “It’s been discovered in the dumped SHIELD files that Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, jumped off the Manhattan Bridge in New York in what the medical and psychological files consider a suicide attempt.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like You

**Author's Note:**

> So this started a LONG time ago, but basically I was thinking about how easy it would be for Steve to have PTSD that nobody ever thought to treat because he's a SUPER SOLDIER, and who needs mental healthcare when you're enhanced, right?
> 
> Well, this happened.

“Man, I hate you.” 

Steve laughed when he looked up at Sam on the last in a row of treadmills in front of him. It had been raining out that day, so Sam had convinced him to come to the gym with him. He’d then convinced Steve to lift weights just to see how strong he really was. Currently, Steve had loaded the curl bar as heavy as it could be and was casually lifting the weight with a smile on his face as he stared Sam down. “What’s that, Sam?” he asked with a smirk and Sam narrowed his eyes.

“You heard me,” he panted as he continued running.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, low-weight, high rep. Don’t want to get too bulky, you know,” he teased and Sam grunted unhappily.

“Showoff,” he accused and Steve laughed, turning back to the TV when he saw the CNN logo flashing as it came back from commercial. He and Sam had caught a few HYDRA leads watching the news, so when the words ‘Breaking News’ flashed on the screen he paid attention, even if they seemed to call everything breaking news usually.

“I’m Wolf Blitzer, and there’s some shocking Breaking news this hour.” Steve paled some and stopped mid-curl when his own face popped up on the screen. He didn’t know what was about to be said, but he knew it couldn’t be good. 

And it wasn’t.

Wolf Blitzer’s voice was what Steve’s hearing narrowed to as the headline popped up and he spoke. “It’s been discovered in the dumped SHIELD files that Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, jumped off the Manhattan Bridge in New York in what the medical and psychological files consider a suicide attempt.”

Steve wasn’t sure what hit the floor first, the weights he had been lifting, or Sam as he fell off the treadmill. 

Steve was still staring blankly, ears ringing when Sam stood up and walked closer to the TV over the treadmills as Wolf Blitzer began speaking to another person on the screen. “The files have been sifted through for the past several weeks and there are a lot of national secrets that have been leaked, but only recently have the personnel files begun to be studied, is this right?”

The person on the screen, a woman that the lower third claimed to be a co-chair for the Department of Homeland Security named Dr. Cason, nodded. “That’s right, Wolf. Many of the former SHIELD employees who were not HYDRA have been absorbed into other agencies in the government, so there has been a mad scramble to take down all of their medical and personnel files.”

Wolf nodded. “And in these files, there were also files pertaining to Captain Rogers, is this correct?”

“Yes, that is correct.” The woman’s voice continued even as a photo of his face after the Battle of New York was flashed on the screen. “The medical files discovered show that Captain Rogers was treated for internal injuries due to a fall from the Manhattan Bridge. He seemingly survived due to his experimental enhancements, but he was in SHIELD medical care for a number of days, after which there are psychological files in which it is noted he was treated for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and severe depression.”

Wolf nodded. “But there’s no doubt it was a suicide attempt?”

“That is correct, it was most definitely a suicide attempt.”

Steve didn’t hear Sam calling his name until Sam touched his arm and he jerked, snapping out of his tunnel vision only to see shock and worry in his friend’s eyes. He blinked and looked around only to realize that nearly everybody near them was looking at the photo and then at him and whispering behind their hands to each other. “It’s okay, Steve,” Sam said, patting his shoulder. “I think we’re done for today anyways, right?”

Steve bit his lip and nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, okay.”

By the time he got his bag from the lockers, his phone already showed a dozen missed calls and even more messages.

~

Steve was silent the whole drive back to Sam’s house and Sam didn’t try to talk to him and interrupt the silence. It wasn’t for nearly an hour, not until after they had both showered and sat down on opposite ends of the couch, that Sam spoke, distracting Steve from staring down his repeatedly vibrating phone on the coffee table.

“You can tell me to shut up whenever you want, but I have to ask this… is it true?” Sam asked.

Steve nodded solemnly, still staring at the phone as it lit up again. “It was my birthday,” he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat, seeming to snap out of it. He looked at Sam. “I woke up three years ago. It was my birthday a year later. Or almost a year. I think it was still July when I woke up,” he mumbled, looking away again. “The first year after they brought me back… it wasn’t great,” he admitted softly. “It was after New York,” he added offhandedly. “So, two years ago-“

“Steve, I get it,” Sam said gently. “It was a month after New York. On your birthday?”

Steve nodded. “When they first woke me up, I was so confused and then when I really settled in and realized ‘shit, you’re alive after-“ Steve stopped, grimacing. “I crashed that plane ready to die. It wasn’t what I wanted, but- but I’d made my peace with God and I was saving millions of people so I- I was okay with that.” He nodded slowly. “I was dying to save people and I was at peace when I crashed that plane. And then I woke up and I was-“ He groaned, rubbing at his face as he dropped his head on the back of the couch. “I was a fish out of water. I didn’t know anything anymore. And after Fury put me up in this cabin he had and let me catch up with history, it was sort of fun. I was living in the future, you know?” He looked over at Sam. “Then- then I realized there wasn’t anybody to live it with. Nobody. I was totally alone. Entirely.” He swallowed hard. “I’d never been alone. Not really. Growing up, that was my biggest fear, you know?” He smiled sadly. “I was in the fucking _future_ all alone. I didn’t recognize anything about me and I didn’t have anybody to talk to.” He looked at Sam. “I spent a solid six months before New York spending all my time working out and sleeping and eating and that’s it. Nothing. I didn’t talk to anybody, I didn’t do anything. I drew when I felt like leaving my apartment. Sat around reading the SHIELD files on all my old friends and all but three of them were dead and I’d stare at the phone and contemplate calling one of them. Then Gabe Jones died and I was down to two and still I never called either of them.”

Sam nodded slowly, clearly trying to show understanding. “And then New York?”

“And then New York,” Steve confirmed. “It was… meaning.” Sam raised an eyebrow in surprise and Steve sighed. “I had a purpose. I was doing something. I had a team, and I was fighting a bad guy, and I knew what to do for once. They didn’t have to be friends, total strangers were still teammates. And I was doing something worthwhile. I was fighting a good fight and I had a few short days of meaning.” He shrugged. “Then we all went our separate ways, and I went off driving across the country, just to try and find myself.” He grimaced. “I just found out how empty my life was. I was alone and I was worthless without a purpose, I thought.”

“Why your birthday?” Sam asked gently. “You can stop me if you want,” he reminded him.

Steve looked up at him with a broken smile and tears in his eyes. “Because I couldn’t sleep and went for a walk and watched the sunrise from the bridge and it was beautiful and I felt nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing. I looked down at the water and thought about how I didn’t have anybody who would care about Steve being gone. Captain America would be missed, but I’d worked out by then that ‘Captain America’ stood for a lot of shit I never would’ve agreed with, so who gave a fuck if their beloved icon was gone. I thought about how many more birthdays I might have where nobody cared and I just- I just decided in a split-second decision to jump.”

“And you survived and got help?” Sam asked, and Steve nodded.

“Drugs didn’t work with my body, so I had therapy. There was a lot of stuff they figured was classic PTSD but to me, PTSD wasn’t something they’d taught me about the future. I didn’t really know about it. Stuff like recurring nightmares, and survivor’s guilt, and the constant need to feel useful. They kept it quiet and I really did get a lot better just by learning what it was that was happening.” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Setting up a routine, getting myself into the rotation for SHIELD missions, even calling the one Howling Commando left and meeting up with him and meeting all his grandkids before he passed a few months later, it was all good for me.” He shrugged. “I was okay.”

Sam hummed. “Man, when I met you, you weren’t exactly thriving-“

“No, I wasn’t,” Steve agreed. “But I was alright. I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t all hollow still. I was to the point where I could feel things and I had a purpose.”

Sam looked at him closely. “I asked you once, right after we met, ‘what makes you happy’, and you told me ‘I don’t know’. I knew going in that you were depressed. This doesn’t change anything, Steve. You know that, right?”

Steve nodded, smiling genuinely. “And I do know what makes me happy now. Having a friend like you.”

Sam chuckled, groaning. “Aw man, talk about pressure. I’m the one thing that makes you happy?”

“Well, not the only thing, but you and Natasha have helped me a lot. Having friends again is really helpful,” he said with a grateful smile.

Sam nodded. “So the suicide thing, I don’t have to worry about that again, right?”

Steve shook his head. “No. I haven’t felt like killing myself since that attempt. I mean _technically_ I was going to go down with that Insight carrier, but that was because I wasn’t about to fight Bucky to the death. If one of us was going to kill the other, he was going to kill me.”

Sam snorted. “And when we go back on the hunt for the Winter Soldier next week, are you going to let him kill you if it comes down to it?”

“Yes,” Steve said simply, startling Sam into making a disbelieving sound. Steve gave him a serious look. “Sam, I can’t hurt him. I don’t think he will fight us if we do find him, but I won’t do it.” He bit his lip, glancing down at his knees. “I- I should tell you something else. That was sort of… part of it all.”

“What, you’ve secretly been madly in love with Barnes since you were kids?” Sam joked, and Steve blushed, nodding slowly. Sam paused, face going blank. “Dude.”

Steve shrugged with a sheepish smile. “It’s weird, right?”

“You’re gay?” Sam asked, and Steve shook his head.

“No, the internet says I’m bisexual,” Steve said simply. “It’s never- it hasn’t come up before. And it doesn’t change anything,” he said sincerely. “Even if Bucky was just my friend, I’d be the same right now. I’d never be able to hurt a friend. I wouldn’t be able to hurt you if it was me or you,” he said and Sam narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Were you flirting me when we first met?” he asked, and Steve blushed.

“I- I- not-“

Sam barked out a laugh. “I’m just messing with you, man.” He shoved Steve lightly. “Look, I’m glad you told me all about this stuff. I don’t know what we’ll do to handle the news leak, but me and you? We’re good.”

Steve gave him a grateful look. “Thanks, Sam. I really am a lot better now. I mean, I guess you don’t get a changed diagnosis when you’re diagnosed with PTSD, so I probably still have that, but I’m not severely depressed anymore. That felt horrible. That was just feeling useless and listless and worthless and lots of ‘less’ words,” Steve said, cringing. “I mean, I still have days I don’t feel so hot, but it’s nothing like that was.”

Sam nodded. “I’m glad, then. But if you do need to talk, you know I’m always here, man.” He waved a hand. “And, if you need to talk to somebody else with PTSD, the group at the VA is very good at the anonymous thing. They won’t go blabbing about Captain America’s problems.”

Steve nodded, looking down at his knees. “I think- I think that might be a good idea? I didn’t get a chance with group therapy when I attempted suicide because they didn’t want it to get out. But now… maybe it would help,” he said softly.

“Whatever you need to do,” Sam said gently.

~

Steve felt pretty conspicuous sitting near the back row at Sam’s session. He had seen more than a few people looking is way on the way in, after he’d taken off his hat and stopped staring at the ground while walking. 

Sam had been right, though. It did help to hear some of what the others had gone through since they got home from places like Iraq and Afghanistan. It was all very different from what he had experienced in war, but he’d did SHIELD missions in the Middle East so he had seen a lot of the stuff they were talking about. He just hadn’t lived it like they had. 

“So,” Sam said, after the last woman – Marcy – finished. “This morning we have a new member. All of you remember what it was like the first time you showed up.” He looked at Steve. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked gently.

Steve swallowed down a sudden rush of panic, but nodded jerkily, taking a deep breath as he looked down at his lap. “Uh, hi everybody. I’m Steve,” he said, glancing around at some of the others. “But you guys probably figured that out by now,” he added and there were a few polite chuckles. The closest person to him, an old man who was the only one of them that was a Vietnam War vet, not Iraq or Afghanistan, gave him a comforting smile and he licked his lips, wishing his throat wasn’t so dry all of a sudden. “I was Army special forces, but my active duty was a bit before most of your time,” he said, a sad attempt at a joke. He rubbed at the back of his head as he looked down at his lap. “Mine’s sort of a weird case. I didn’t really have a chance to deal with what happened in combat because I took a little sabbatical being a snowman. Some pretty bad things happened in combat and I never- I just pushed all that stuff down because when I woke up…” He shrugged. “It was another century and everything was so different and I spent so much time trying to come to terms with what the world around me was like, it was hard to be too worried about nightmares when the whole day was just so overwhelming.” He looked around, not meeting eyes as much as scanning the room. “I spent so much time by myself trying to figure out how to live in this century that, by the time I’d got comfortable with the world, I didn’t really have…” He smiled sadly, taking a breath. “I didn’t have anything left to distract me. The folks that woke me up, they got me acclimated and then their job was done and I was on my own, more or less, and all the stuff that happened… all the memories and the nightmares and the guilt was just so hard.” He swallowed hard as his eyes started to sting.

“Things were so- so _bad_. I thought growing up during the damn Great Depression had shown me the worst humanity had to offer, but one time I watched through binoculars while three Panzers blew apart a church a whole village had holed up in since it was snowing too hard for them to try to escape when they found out soldiers were coming. We were too far away to help them, and even then there were only a few of us and fighting regular soldiers wasn’t our job, special missions were, so we weren’t equipped to help even if we could’ve got there.” His breath hitched. “When we made it down the hill and went to see if there was any way to help the survivors we got there and- and there were no survivors.” He wiped at his face, looking down at his toes. “I spent every single night for a good six months a couple years ago having nightmares about trying to get there and trying to save people and every time no matter how different the nightmare it all ended the same way it really did… with my men searching through the rubble and finding _bits and pieces_ of people – children – in what was left.” He laughed bitterly. “Nobody really cared that much that Captain America had nightmares, so I didn’t- I never told anybody. I actually never told anybody that story. Only people who know about it were the ones that were there and there’s only two of them alive anymore besides me and one probably doesn’t remember it. But it- it’s hard. To be who people want me to be every day when I sometimes don’t sleep for days since my body can take it and my brain can’t take sleeping.”

“Doesn’t seem really fair.” Steve looked over in surprise and saw a young guy – probably twenty if anything – who was missing both legs. He smiled at Steve. “All people see is a super hero or some shit, right? Nobody realizes you’re just one of us,” he said, gesturing around the room. “Just another soldier they respect when we’re wearing a uniform, then brush us under the rug when they don’t need us anymore.”

Steve smiled weakly and nodded. “That’s what it seems like to me when I take a look around.” He shook his head. “I didn’t even know PTSD was a thing until after I jumped off a bridge and they had to treat me for it. Nobody bothered checking to see if I was suffering it and that wasn’t something anybody knew about back in my day, so I didn’t know what was wrong with me to ask for help. They just assumed I was fine, I guess.”

“Yeah, happens to most of us to start with,” a woman near the front said softly. She shook her head. “Takes something dramatic happening to make people realize something’s wrong.”

Steve shook his head slowly. “I can’t imagine anybody going through what you guys went through coming away without PTSD. War is traumatic. Shouldn’t take a genius to think somebody might have some lingering issues from being exposed to it.”

Sam smiled at Steve and nodded. “Thanks, Steve.” He grinned. “I’m proud of you, Dude, I wasn’t sure I’d get you to talk,” he said making the group all laugh lightly at Steve’s sheepish shrug before giving a round of applause. “Yeah, good job, Steve,” he agreed, smiling. When things quieted down he nodded. “Talking about it’s the first step. Nobody has to, and nobody will judge anybody for not talking, but you guys all know by now that that’s the hardest part.” He shook his head. “Talking with your family is rough, because either you don’t want them to know how bad it is or you can’t bring yourself to traumatize them with the kinda shit we all had happen to us. So this right here,” he gestured to the floor, “this is somewhere we all know what it’s like and we can all understand each other. Doesn’t matter if you’re an old man like my buddy Steve back there or if you were born after parachute pants went out of style. None of us will look at you like you’re crazy.” 

Sam looked at his watch and shrugged matter-of-factly. “War is war. Even if we saw different types of combat, we all understand what each other is going through in one way or another.” 

~

Steve thought that group was really good for him. He was excited to talk about things that nobody else had ever heard and not be judged for it because those there knew what he was talking about.

He should’ve known it was too good to be true, because after only three sessions, someone must’ve caught him going in and out because suddenly, there were cameras around every single door of the VA. He only tried to go back once, and stopped when the session got out and he saw the young guy who had lost his legs being harassed by people asking him to tell them all of Captain America’s dirty secrets.

He didn’t try to go back again.

~

Steve hadn’t replied to most of the calls he’d gotten when the news first broke, since a lot of it was people who he had given his number for one reason or another who suddenly wanted all the dirty details to sell to the press.

The one person he did reply to was Natasha. When she simply texted him an address in Brooklyn, Steve and Sam took the weekend to go up and visit. 

Steve was surprised Natasha was staying in Bed-Stuy of all places, but even with the city always being changed no matter what his memory told him, it felt nostalgic to be back home. When he and Sam arrived at the address Natasha texted and found out she was staying with Barton, things cleared up some. 

“Hey there, Soldier,” Natasha said when she opened the door, leaning against the casing dramatically. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she purred, then snickered when Steve rolled his eyes at her.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Whoa, he calls you Nat?” Barton asked, coming up behind her. He glared at her. “I thought only I was allowed to call you Nat.”

Natasha elbowed him back into the apartment, letting the others in. “He’s my friend too, Clint. Don’t go getting jealous, you’re my b-f-f always,” she said dryly and Sam chuckled.

Clint flopped on the couch and let Natasha flop onto his lap. “Hey Steve. Heard the news. Sucks you tried to kill yourself,” he said absently and Natasha elbowed him again.

Steve snorted. “Thanks, your concern is touching.” He glanced at Sam. “Sam, this is Clint Barton. Clint, this is Sam.”

Clint grinned impishly. “Is he your b-f-f?” he asked and Steve couldn’t help but crack a grin. The few times they’d met, he really did like Clint. He was very sarcastic. “But no, really dude.” He nodded with a small smile. “Glad you’re doing better.” He looked at Natasha. “So that’s what, three out of six Avengers who attempted suicide at least once?”

Natasha hummed. “Possibly four. Stark’s records show an overdose when he was twenty.” She saluted Sam. “World’s greatest heroes and their loooong history of mental illness.” She kicked Steve in the back of the knee, making him fall onto the seat beside her, then moved, stretching out across his and Clint’s laps. “So how’re you holding up? Finally ask that nurse out?”

Steve grimaced. “CIA agent now, and no.” He shook his head. “Not really looking for a girlfriend. I’m just taking a break from looking for him.” He waved a hand absently. “I was taking a little break then all this happened… I was going to group with Sam but I got found out and I can’t do that anymore.”

“You should go talk to Bruce,” Clint suggested. “He keeps bitching about it, but he never kicks anybody out when we use him like a psychiatrist.”

Natasha nodded. “Tony swears by it. I thought he was pulling it out of his ass but when I went to coffee with Bruce I just sorta ended up unloading on him. He just _listens_.”

“Yep! After she talked about that, I went to visit and he didn’t even judge me breaking down and crying over my dead husband,” Clint said and Steve’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Husband?! I thought you and Natasha-“

Natasha and Clint both made horrified faces. “Ew, _no_ ,” he whined. “Nat’s like my sister, don’t be gross.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Also, he’s lying, he wasn’t married to him-“

“In my heart-“

She glared up at him. “You weren’t even dating! You never even kissed him-“

“ _In my heart we were married and had two dogs and a baby named Karen,_ ” Clint stressed, glaring at her. “Don’t even start, I gave the best ten years of my life to that man-“

“In your IMAGINATION!” she argued.

Sam frowned at Steve. “Who are they talking about?”

Steve shrugged. “Not a clue.”

“Coulson,” Natasha said and Steve snapped around to look at her.

“The guy that watched me sleeping- I mean, the agent that Loki killed?” he asked, and Clint burst out laughing.

“He admitted to it?! To you FACE?!” he asked between laughter. He deflated some and snickered into Natasha’s hair. “Oh God, Nat.”

She hummed. “And he isn’t dead by the way,” she said to Steve. “Found out in the dumped files. He’s hiding from us, though. Clint tried to run away with him but he can’t find him.”

Clint sighed, shaking his head dramatically. “One day I’m going to have a baby named Karen with him.”

Natasha looked at Steve more seriously. “You’re looking for the Winter Soldier again? Really? Don’t you think if he was still free you would’ve found him by now? Even money says HYDRA found him and reprogrammed him.”

Steve sobered and swallowed hard. He looked down at his hands. “I broke his programming once, I can do it again. They can take him from me however many times they want.” He shook his head. “I’m going to find him, Natasha. I have to.”

Sam gave her a flat look. “This dumbass was in love with Barnes all them years,” he said and Natasha sat up, eyes wide.

“What?! Steve! You’re gay?” she demanded, glaring as she kicked him in the side. “I would’ve set you up with boys-“

“I didn’t wanna be set up!” he argued, then shook his head. “And I’m bisexual. Not gay,” he said sheepishly.

Clint just stared for a moment before snickering. “Oh my God, Captain America is bisexual, this would make Phil’s _decade_ ,” he stressed and Natasha chuckled, shaking her head.

She looked over at Steve. “Are you gonna go visit Stark and Banner while you’re in town?” she asked and he cringed.

“I may as well,” he sighed, already dreading the reception he’d get.

~

What Steve wasn’t expecting or prepared for was for the car Stark sent to pick him up to stop and immediately be swamped by cameras when he got out. He was alone, Sam had stayed behind, and he was completely blindsided by lights and microphones shoved in his face. 

“Captain America tried to commit suicide, care to comment?”

“Is it true your popularity has plummeted among parents?”

“What does it feel like to know the whole country sees their Greatest Hero as weak?”

Steve tried to spot a route through the crowd crushing in on him, and he tried to push his way through without shoving anybody, but he only managed to get stuck in the middle of a crowd of reporters. He could see security coming from the entrance to Stark Tower, but they were struggling to quell the vultures trying to pick him clean.

“Are you ashamed that Captain America is now a tarnished brand?”

Steve couldn’t help but snap. Everything had been too much ever since the news broke and this time, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He turned and glared at the last man who spoke. “I am not ashamed of having the same mental illness that so many other American men and women who served in the military suffer, because it’s nothing to be ashamed of! I have PTSD, and I didn’t know what that even was at that time, so I went over a year completely untreated for it.” He glared at him. “I don’t give a damn about the ‘Captain America’ brand. I didn’t have any say in what history did to paint a picture of Captain America as some mythological figure, believe me, if I did, nobody would be reducing Peggy Carter to nothing but ‘that girl Captain America loved’ when she was on the front lines for way longer than me and did way more impressive stuff.” He huffed. “I mean for fucks sake, they act like she was the love of my life or something and I kissed her _one time_ , Bucky was the love of my life,” he rambled, flushing some when he realized what he said when people started _freaking out_ to ask questions. “The point is that Captain America is a legend by now, not _me_ the person. I was twenty-five years old when I saw some of the worst shit war can offer, can it be shocking that I was traumatized by that?!”

“So what, you’re drawing a line between Captain America and Steve Rogers-“

“I’ve been Steve Rogers since I was born,” he interrupted. He barreled on, though. “The only reason Captain America is even remembered as something more than a war bond sales ploy is because I went to _war_. War is not something you just deal with. I’m not a machine just because I’m medically enhanced!” he stressed. “Do I regret I tried to kill myself? Yes! Because I like being alive, I’m _happy_ that I lived to see thirty. But I’m not ashamed that I suffered the same mental illness most soldiers do. In the end I’m just a veteran that came home changed, just like so many other men and women do every day.” He shook his head. “The stigma attached to what they’re suffering is why they go untreated – hell it’s why I went untreated. Nobody bothered even telling me what depression or PTSD was, because that wasn’t something we knew about in my day, and they did just like you, they assumed I was ‘above’ normal human problems, but I’m _not_! I’m the same as anybody else! The only thing that’s really brought me out of my depression is the love of my friends and their help in staying out of my own head.”

Happy managed to get through to him and grabbed his arm. “Come with me, Steve,” he said, and Steve sighed with relief as he ducked under Happy’s arm and let Happy guide him through the crowd.

He knew when he got inside he’d remember all the shit he just said and regret it, but for the moment, he just wanted to get somewhere quiet so he could breathe.

~

Steve whimpered, hiding his face in his hands as the footage of his meltdown played again. “Oh God,” he groaned and Tony just snickered from where he stood behind the couch, looking over Steve’s shoulder.

Bruce chuckled, pulling his knees up in his chair. “I can’t believe you accidentally outed yourself, Steve.”

He dropped his hands, eyes wide. “I panicked! They were all over the place and yelling and I couldn’t really breathe and I just panicked and started arguing and then Happy saved me. It’s all a blur. I don’t even remember saying all that!”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder, sobering up some. “Hey, Buddy, I know a little something about panic attacks, so I get it. You seemed about ready to have one going by that footage. Totally not judging you, for once this time,” he said and Steve managed a weak smile.

“Thanks, Tony.”

Bruce nodded. “Yeah, Steve, I’m really glad you’re doing well, so don’t let this set you back.” He winced. “Not the only one of us to have gotten low in the past.”

Steve grimaced. “Clint was the one that reminded me that means half the Avengers have tried to kill themselves, if not two-thirds.” He snorted humorlessly. “We’re all a little fucked up, aren’t we?”

“Yep,” Tony said, shrugging. “One way or another we’re all seriously messed up. I should just hire a whole psychiatric practice for the six of us. And probably Pepper and Happy, I’ve got them both into some really traumatic shit,” he added and Bruce grinned in amusement.

“Maybe then you’d all stop acting like I’m a psychiatrist-“

“No, we like you cause you’re just so calming, it’s impossible to be your friend and not spew all our darkest secrets,” Tony argued dismissively.

Bruce smirked. “And you have no idea how I’m waiting to use this to my advantage,” he said, making Steve laugh in surprise at Bruce’s sneaky tone.

“Well you can’t leak mine since I blabbed that I’m in love with my old best friend in public and SHIELD files leaked that I tried to kill myself. I have nothing left,” Steve bemoaned, and Tony scoffed.

“Oh please, everybody has something left.” He turned to Bruce. “Whenever you find out his weird sexual kinks or freaky extra limbs due to being a science experiment, tell me and we can sell it and split the take,” he said seriously, making Steve fall over against the couch with a whine.

~

Steve was planning on take a break and staying with Clint and Natasha before going back on the search for Bucky, wanting to let the public attention die down a bit first but it seemed someone else had different ideas.

Clint was making coffee when there was a sudden pounding at the door. Natasha frowned from where she sat on the counter and Clint grimaced. “Hey Steve, answer it and if the guy’s in a tracksuit, punch him really hard and slam the door, okay?”

Steve stood up and rolled his eyes. “Greaaaat. What the hell kinda trouble are you in?” he asked as he walked from the couch to the door. He opened it just as another round of loud bangs started up. “Alright, alright, keep-“

“You stupid Punk!” Steve was too stunned to even react as the last person he expected to be on the other side of the door shoved him, making him stumble back into the living room. The Winter Soldier – or Bucky, it seemed, going by the ‘Punk’ remark – followed him, shoving him again. “You _jumped off a fucking bridge_?!” he snapped, the rage in his eyes overlaid with something akin to panic. 

“B-Bucky?” Steve stuttered, throat tight with hope and fear all the same. “Are you-“

“Oh no you don’t, don’t try and change the subject,” Bucky snapped, slapping him – hard – on the chest. “You _jumped_ off of a _bridge_!”

Steve saw movement from the side and held up a hand. “Put the bow down, Clint,” he choked out. He blinked at Bucky. “Bucky?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, it’s me, but that’s not important-“

“I damn well think that’s pretty important!” Steve spluttered and Bucky shoved at his shoulder.

“No, what’s important is you JUMPED OFF A GODDAMN BRIDGE-“

“Yeah, yeah, we got that you’re upset Steve attempted suicide,” Natasha said dryly from the kitchen. “That kinda came out a few weeks ago, by the way.”

Bucky huffed angrily. “I looked all over the fuckin’ country for him and it took a few days to get here after seeing him on the news in front of Stark Tower-“

Steve turned pink. “You saw that, huh?” he asked awkwardly, looking down at his toes. “Um, even the part- uh, the whole love of my life thing?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, so? I always knew that, I loved you, too, I’m a little more pissed that those fuckers didn’t fucking take care of you until you jumped off a goddamn bridge-“

“What do you mean you always knew and you loved me too?!” Steve demanded, eyes wide.

Bucky gave him a flat look. “You weren’t subtle and I knew you were just stupid enough to try and ruin your life by acting on it if you knew I felt the same way. Whatever, that doesn’t matter, Steve, you jumped-“

“YES! I jumped off a bridge, I was in a bad place, it was pretty terrible, but you can’t just brush past the fact you loved me all those years I loved you, too!” Steve shouted, shoving him this time. “What the hell?! You seriously just barged in here yelling at me for being suicidal after I spent the past _six months_ looking for you?! THIS is what you finally show your fuckin’ face for, Jerk?” he demanded. “How long have you remembered who you are? Did you ever plan on coming back before that got out? Were you ever going to let me find you?”

Bucky rolled his lips together, sighing. “I thought-“ He stopped, glancing away before his eyes flickered back to Steve, so wide and blue and familiar that it _hurt_. “I thought you were better off without me. I thought you’d give up eventually. I’m a fuckin’ _mess_ , Stevie,” he said weakly, voice cracking on Steve’s name. “I thought you’d give up and stop lookin’, and I thought you had for a week or two there, but then I heard your stupid ass had jumped off a goddamn bridge after all the hard work I put into keeping you alive, and I knew I had to find you and wring your fucking neck,” he growled. “But then I saw that thing and- and-“ He winced. “You looked so scared. And I’d never seen you scared. Not once. Not ever,” he said seriously. 

Steve bit his bottom lip, trying not to let it tremble. “Then why’d you come back now, Buck?” he asked weakly.

Bucky sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before dropping it and looking up at Steve. “Because if nobody’s bothered giving a damn about taking care of you, I need to.” He shook his head with a little smile. “I did it for twenty years in one life, I can do it again in this one.” He looked at Steve and took a gasping breath. “Cause it don’t matter who I am or apparently what lengths people go to to fuck me up, Stevie, the one thing hardwired so deep they can’t fully cover it up is you.”

Steve let out a distressed sound, eyes filling with tears. “ _Bucky_ ,” he breathed, and Bucky didn’t pull away when Steve lunged at him, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hugging him tight. He just raised his arms and rested his hands on the planes of Steve’s back, holding him just as tight as Steve held him.


End file.
